


Start Over

by a_mind_at_work (Madame_Marauder)



Series: Beli3ver 'verse [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Elams is endgame i promise, F/M, First Meetings, Lams and hamliza are only tagged as past bc its a reincarnation au, Other, Slow Burn, Which is so slow that nothing really happens, Worldbuilding again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-25 21:23:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12044550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madame_Marauder/pseuds/a_mind_at_work
Summary: John's tumbling headfirst into a new town, a new school, and the first and only crush on a girl he's ever had.Yay.





	Start Over

_LizzySky: Hello! This is John Laurence, right?_

_John.Laur: Yes it is_

_And I assume you would be the person forced to guide me around school?_

_LizzySky: Ah, I volunteered, actually._

_A lot of the Student Council is very… set in their ways._

_Kind of the problem with being led by an actual ex-king_

_But that's okay, Herc and I are excited to have a new face in school!_

_John.Laur: Herc?_

_LizzySky: He's my best friend._

_Oh! I'm Elizabeth Skylar, by the way._

_You can call me Eliza, or Liz, whatever. Just not Betsey._

_John.Laur: ?_

_LizzySky: It was my past husband's nickname for me, our own little joke. He's the only one I let call me Betsey, and only two people were allowed to call him Alex. It's just a little… intimate, so only close friends and/or Alex can call me that._

_Sorry for the infodump!_

John’s stomach flips. Elizabeth Skylar, nicknamed Betsey by her husband Alex? Of course it was. Who else would greet him at the school his family was shipping him off to except his lover's wife? Because this was exactly his luck.

 

_John.Laur: You're fine, Im the same way. Only family calls me Jack, and dear is reserved for romantic partners, obviously_

_LizzySky: Oh, I'm so glad it's not too odd!_

_Hercules (that's Herc’s full name,) says hello, by the way._

_John.Laur: Tell him hi back, i guess_

_LizzySky: Oh dear, he's singing showtunes again. I should probably stop him before the bus driver yells._

_I'll meet you outside the office?_

_John.Laur: Sounds good to me_

 

Something in him feels leaden as the bus rattles down a road with potholes that are desperately in need of filling in, and the bouncing of the bus’s shitty suspension sets itself at odds with the uncomfortable weight pulling him down.

      What would happen when they inevitably recognized each other- he seriously doubted her reaction would be “Oh, hey, you and my husband fucked on multiple occasions, and were also hopelessly in love with each other, cool, that's cool.”

      And Hercules- was he their Hercules? Was he their sneaky, clever, now-that-he-thinks-about-it-mom-friend Hercules? Or was he just some unluckily named new soul? Or like, the actual Hercules?

      Well, the ‘actual’ Hercules was a myth. But still.

      John steps off of the bus and heads to the office, and he still doesn't quite expect to see a tall boy with sharp, familiar eyes- and it's him, it's actually him, it's Hercules, and he nearly drops his books in shock.

      He really doesn't expect to have his breath taken away by the most beautiful girl he's seen in all his seventeen-plus-twenty-seven years. Long, jet-black hair cascades over slim shoulders, and dark, sparkling eyes are set above a button nose and smiling lips. She's wearing a sky blue that accents her features perfectly, fingertips painted a matching color.

       She- Eliza, it must be- isn't what modern society would term “hot,” or “sexy,” doesn't wear a deep-V neckline or short-shorts. But instead she is elegant and delicate, a genuine smile on her face, and John suddenly thinks he understands how Alexander could fall in love with her as she walks over to him and says gently, “You must be John Laurence. I'm Eliza, this is-”

       “Herc,” John finishes, because _holy shit, holy fuck, his best fucking friend is here, Eliza is an actual goddess and I think I'm bisexual this time, and oh my god_ **_Herc_ ** _._

       The tall boy grins and bumps his shoulder. “Hey, good to see you're not dead anymore, you asshole.”

       John wrinkles his nose at him and sticks out his tongue, but nudges him as well and doesn't bother to hide his grin. “Good to be back, you brony.”

       It's Herc’s turn to make a stupid face, and John just laughs as he does his best to show his thorough disgust. Eliza snorts loudly, and breaks the perfect gleaming facade.

       She still manages to make it endearing.

      “Alright, revolutionaries, time to go talk about circles and greek letters for an hour,” Eliza interrupts. “John, it's nice to actually finally meet you, Alex told me so much about you...”

 

      “So she was Alexander’s-”

      “Yep.”

      “And she knows about the-”

      “Mhm.”

      “And she still likes me?”

      Herc smirks down at him. “Eliza is Eliza, man. She is the _nicest_ person you will ever know. And just as poly as Alexander, if you catch my drift.”

       John stares at him. “You're kidding.”

       “Oh, don't get me wrong, when it comes to the tomcat she's still _helpless_ ,” Herc replies, doing a very, very bad impression of the soundtrack. “But I'm sure you remember Alexander's comment in his letter just before the wedding.”

        _Witness the final consummation_. “How could I not?”

       “Yeah, well,” his friend says. “He had permission for that from his wife. Just… take it slow and let her figure out her own thoughts on you first. Also, you're terrible at talking to girls, even if you're bi this time around.”

       “Won't argue that one.”

       “Because it's true!”

 

      They slide into their seats at lunch, and after a moment of comparing schedules Herc raps his knuckles against the underside of the table. It's an old nervous habit that John recognizes from their first life, and Eliza clearly does from this one.

      “What is it?” John says bluntly, and his old friend sighs.

      Eliza raises an eyebrow at him, and Herc begrudgingly makes eye contact with John across the table. “Guess what lovely season we're discussing in history?”

      “Wh- oh. Oh, come on, seriously? That winter?”

      Herc nods, and John stabs his pasta salad (what the fuck, lunch ladies,) with a bit more anger than strictly necessary. “Delightful. My very first day, and I have to deal with that?”

      “Hey, hey, I'm here too,” Herc interjects. “We can deal with that bullshit together. Again.”

      John feels Eliza nudge Herc’s leg with her foot, and he rolls his eyes. “Boy, isn't this a delightful welcome.”

      “Better than none,” Herc tries.

      He does his best impression of Alex’s are-you-shitting-me face.

      Eliza laughs, a quiet, tinkling sound that's as far away as it gets from Alexander's loud, boisterous one or Francis’s muffled noises of amusement that weren't quite laughter, and yet hers tugs on his heart in just the same way as theirs did.

       “Well,” Eliza says, “Sarcasm will get you everywhere. Mrs. B is the best, let me tell you…”

       Her gentle derailing of the conversation before any rants break out is Alexander Hamilton Management 101, as all three around the table can attest. The most basic of ways to stop any of the Rev Set from ranting was to change the topic just slightly, or drive it into a completely different direction if need be.

       When John did it, he called them ‘Turtle Talks’ in his head.

       But this time he didn't object to being on the receiving end of one; it was useful information, for starters, and yet again his dear boy had been right, because Eliza was a joy to watch talk.

       Whereas Alex would talk quickly and passionately, with lots of arm-waving (and optional sound effects if drunk), Eliza speaks at a much more relaxed pace, a vague hand wave here or there as she explains why Mrs. B, their ELA teacher, is “...fucking awesome, she is the absolute greatest-”

       “Oh, shit,” Herc interrupts as an obnoxiously-overdressed kid wearing entirely red and gold approaches their table, followed by several guys in matching red t-shirts.

       “Here comes the king,” Eliza mutters, her usual soft edges turned sharp and bitter.

       John blinks, then lets a grin spread across his face. “Oh, tell me I'm wrong. Herc, who's that?”

       “Why, I do believe we all knew him as George the III,” Herc replies, and their matching expressions are more suited to sharks or wolves than to boys.

       Something ancient and fierce and electric whips down John’s spine as the king-become-boy sneers down at them, and it coils in his stomach as perverse satisfaction when nobody rises for their former monarch.

      “Ben, show them how they should act for their king.”

      The electricity rears up into his neck and shoulders, and John turns a lazy smile to the ex-royalty. “Georgie- no, there are Georges that we actually like… Friedrich. Freddie. Can I call you Freddie? I think I'll call you Freddie. Freddie, you do realize you aren't actually a king anymore, right?”

       ‘Freddie’ scowls, and one of the boys behind him steps forward. “How dare you, he-”

       “Arnold!” John exclaims in fake delight, and the raging electricity crackles on the tip of his tongue. “It's been years. How did that little business scheme of yours _turn_ out, hmm? I hope you got your _pile of silver_. But oh, wait, you didn't, did you?”

       Arnold grits his teeth. “Look here, Laurens-”

       “Ah-ah, now,” interrupts the smaller boy, wiggling his finger at him mockingly. “That's Lieutenant-Colonel Laurens to you, Benedict. You lost non-titled address privileges when you lost your friends, your family, and the trust of a nation. You're sitting there wearing your colors, and I'm wearing mine.”

       Herc is grinning into his milk carton, and most of the rest of the cafeteria has ground to a halt by this point, watching the blue-clad new kid confront the has-been king.

       “I think he's got you beat, Freddie,” Eliza quips.

       Freddie grits his teeth and leans in to snarl, “Watch your step, you little Continental.”

       “I like how you think that's an insult,” John replies coolly. “And watch your own, Friedrich. I'd hate to see you trip over the cape you don't get to wear anymore.”

       The ex-royalty scowls and turns away. “Watch out for blizzards,” he snaps, and his blow lands squarely. But even though Laurence might not be used to verbal sparring, Laurens certainly was.

       “Watch out for peninsulas!” he calls back, and Herc cracks up next to him as the ‘Redcoats’ scowl and follow Freddie away.

       Eliza grins at him across the table. “You know, Laurens, I think I like you a lot.”

* * *

 

     “So, how did you end up here?” Eliza asks during their English class a few days later. (She was right- Mrs. B really is the absolute best teacher ever. Alex would love her class, with its many essays and actual interesting assigned books, and especially how self-directed much of it is.)

      John shrugs. “Um. I got expelled because before my Revelation- like, a day- I screamed at a influential lawyer's son, and then after I had my Revelation I broke his nose. And my parents let me choose where I wanted to ‘start over’ until college. I picked as close to NYC as I possibly could.”

       “Methinks you overshot,” chimes in the third member of their group project. “Besides, why’d you break this kid's nose?”

       Eliza raises an eyebrow at him, and John holds up his hands defensively. “Hey, hey, chill, I had reason. I yelled because he was throwing slurs like confetti, and then I punched him because he used to be Charles Lee.”

       The third guy whistles. “Damn. Like, the idiot in the American Revolution who kept panicking and badmouthing the General?”

      “Yeah,” John replies, half-surprised that anyone recognizes that name, and then something clicks into place in his head. “Wait, hang on, Tench?”

      The other boy squints, then grins. “That's me. Laurens?”

      “The latest and greatest,” John replies. “Been a while, Ten.”

      “Tony, now, actually. Thank god, if I had kept my name I might actually have killed someone.”

       Eliza blinks over at them. “Why are you wanting to get to New York so badly if your family is back in South Carolina?”

       John taps his foot against the metal leg of his desk as he tries to decide how to explain. “My parents and I… don't quite get along, I guess. They're good people, hell of a lot better than my first set, but they have this idea of a perfect straight genius lawyer son who carries on the family business. And I'm none of those things except their son.”

      “But why New York?” Tony adds. “I mean, I get the whole parent thing, believe me. But why so specifically NYC?”

      The freckled boy settles back in his seat and sighs, mentally weighing reactions to his next words. Is his fledgling crush worth the possibility of somehow losing Alex to her again, even if she doesn't mean for that to happen? _Ah, fuck it._

“If Alexander is back,” John finally decides on saying, putting his hands behind his head, “then that's where he'll be headed. He wouldn't want to be out of his city any longer than he'd have to be.”

      Tony starts bouncing his leg up and down, looking at him hard. “You're chasing him, then?”

      “Could I ever not?” John shoots back. “No matter if I ever fall for anyone else, there is a part of my heart that has always been and will always be his. A large part. Of course I'm chasing him.”

      His old friend tilts his head. “Look, I'm not exactly sure how he had things worked out with you and his wife, but the tomcat was… well, the tomcat. He wasn't always the most… faithful… either.”

      “I know,” John and Eliza reply in unison, equally exasperated, and then exchange an awkward glance.

      “I mean we discussed you-”

      “He said he asked you-”

      “He did, I knew, don't worry-”

      “Oh good, yeah, for a second there-”

      “Though I hear you had a wife of your own-”

      “My Martha? Oh, she was gay too, we were covering-”

      “Daughter?”

      “Both trying to prove something to ourselves.”

      Eliza stares at him for a long moment, then nods to herself. “I suppose that's fair enough. It was the 1700s, I can't fault you on that one. Prove anything?”

      “Yeah,” John snorts. “I was like, 100% gay instead of 50%.”

      She raises an eyebrow. “You bi, then?”

      “Think so. Bi and maybe poly?”

      “Same.” 

      She smiles over at him, and he smiles back.

**Author's Note:**

> I told you I'd update someday! 
> 
> Part 3 should be up relatively soon... I have no patience for high school irl, so be prepared for a rather large timeskip :^)
> 
> As always, my tumblr is @discount-satan


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